Yesteryear Fiction

The Last Wizard, On The Nature Of Magic
By Ben Dimitrov


“Even in the greatest heat, the cold sets in, the wall of what-ifs presented on the solid axe blade of what so many claim to be reality. But just because the masses say it is so doesn’t mean that it is. We can’t all be right. Of course, you can’t really discount an idea just because it has a lot of people behind it either. Greater purpose, hmph! Listen to the king, see– listen to the king, and he’ll tell you that the only purpose of the individual is as a census measurement for the size of the machine that powers the state. He’ll tell you that the true organism is the nation, the species, not the person. And the tinkerers– the ones who reduce everything to simple mechanics, look at life through the eye of the machine, heh– they’ll tell you that you aren’t even really you! Philosophers these days wear greasy overalls. ‘all is chemical’ they say. ‘you aren’t really in control’ they say. Life is just a predetermined ride in a reality you can’t control that ends with an accident in a dark tunnel you never escape from. I know better. You know better, but those mechanics– they say ‘you’re just fooling yourself!’ and so life goes on. They’ll discover magic again, some day. You see it in little bits here and there, edges used or verified, and the rest will follow. We like to think that we’ve climbed out of the dark ages, but in reality, we still have a long way to go yet.”


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Ben Dimitrov is a pilot. He likes girls, and has always fancied himself a bit of a traditionalist.